


Kageyama: A Haikyuu Lunar Chronicles AU

by Lunar_Odyssey1



Series: Haikyuu Lunar Chronicles AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Mother Mother, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), POV Kageyama Tobio, Rated for swearing, Royalty, Semi Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Tsundere Kageyama Tobio, Why Did I Write This?, excessive use of dumbass, fairytales - Freeform, god please help me, help me, lunar chronicles AU, no beta we die like daichi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunar_Odyssey1/pseuds/Lunar_Odyssey1
Summary: A Haikyuu Lunar Chronicles AU that popped up in my brain one night while I was writing another fanfiction. It is based off Cinder by Marissa Meyer.You don't have to read the original series to get what is happening, since the plot is almost exactly the same.I don't know how to describe this other than cyborg Kageyama and Prince Hinata meeting each other for the first time and chaos ensues.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Haikyuu Lunar Chronicles AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136690
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Where Kageyama calls the crown prince a dumbass

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Welcome to this fic that nobody asked for. If you haven't read Cinder, please do it is super good, but you don't have to for this fic. Also I might've mostly wrote the fic word to word with the actual book.
> 
> If you have read the book here is a character key:  
> Cinder- Kageyama  
> Kai- Hinata  
> Iko- Oikawa  
> Peony- Suga  
> Adri- Aoi (an OC)

The screw through Kageyama’s ankle had rusted, the engraved cross marks worn to a mangled circle. By the time it was extracted far enough for him to wrench free with his prosthetic steel hand, the hairline threads had been stripped clean. 

Tossing the screwdriver onto the table, Kageyama gripped his heel and yanked the foot from its socket. A spark singed his fingertips and he jerked away, leaving the foot to dangle from a tangle of red and yellow wires. 

He slumped back with a relieved groan. A sense of release hovered at the end of those wires- freedom. Having loathed the too-small foot for four years, he swore to never put the piece of junk back on again. He just hoped Oikawa would be back soon with its replacement. 

Kageyama was the only full-service mechanic and volleyball repair shop at New Karasuno’s weekly market. Without a sign, his booth hinted at his trade only by the shelves of stock of android parts and deformed volleyballs that crowded the walls. It was squeezed into a shady cove between a used netscreen dealer and a sports shop, both of owners of the stores whom frequently complained about the tangy smell of metal and grease that came from Kageyama’s booth, even though it was usually disguised by the aroma of meat buns from the bakery across the square. Kageyama knew they really just didn’t like being next to  _ him _ . 

A stained tablecloth divided Kageyama from browsers as they shuffled past. The square was filled with shoppers and hawkers, children and noise. The bellows of men as they bargained with robotic shopkeepers, trying to talk the computers down from their desired profit margins, which Kageyama thought of as idiotic bastards, because how can you barter with an andriod. The hum of ID scanners and monotone voice receipts as money changed accounts. The netscreens that covered every building and filled the air with the chatter of advertisements, news reports, and gossip about the latest scandal about social media influencers. 

Kageyama’s auditory interface dulled the noise into a static thrumming, but today there was one sound that lingered above the rest that he couldn’t drown out. A group of children that were running around just outside of his booth, were playing volleyball and shouting out each other’s names as each child touched the volleyball and passed on to the next child. 

A smile tugged at Kageyama’s lips. Volleyball had always been his favorite thing since he could remember. When he was younger, he had played the game with his younger stepbrother Suga at any given moment that he could. Looking at the children playing volleyball brought a smile to his face along with the inconvenience that the children brought upon to passersby that just wanted to shop around. People had to dodge the volleyball that was flying at a considerable speed and the children running around in order to keep the ball up in the air, and Kageyama adored the children for it. Especially when a rogue child ran into a well-known Karen that all shopkeepers dreaded. He had laughed for days after that incident. 

“Kindaichi!  _ Kindaichi! _ ”

Kageyama’s amusement wilted. He spotted Chang Ursa, the baker, pushing through the crowd in her flour-coated apron. “Kindaichi, come here. I told you not to play so close to--” 

Ursa met Kageyama’s gaze, knotted her lips, then grabbed her son by the arm and spun away. The boy whined, dragging his feet as Ursa ordered him to stay closer to their booth. Kageyama wrinkled his nose and flipped the baker off at the baker’s retreating back. The remaining children fled into the crowd, taking their bright laughter with them. 

“It’s not like wires are contagious,” Kageyama muttered to his empty booth as he silently cursed out Ursa. 

With a spine-popping stretch, he pulled his dirty fingers through his hair, slicking it back, then grabbed his blackened work gloves. He covered his steel hand first, and though his right palm began to sweat immediately inside the thick material, he felt more comfortable with the gloves on, hiding the plating of his left hand. He stretched his fingers wide, working out the cramp that had formed at the fleshy base of his thumb from clenching the screwdriver, and squinted again into the city square. He spotted plenty of stocky white androids in the din, but none of them were Oikawa. 

Sighing, Kageyama bent over the toolbox beneath the worktable. After digging through the jumbled mess of screwdrivers and wrenches, he emerged with the fuse puller that had been long buried at the bottom. One by one, he disconnected the wires that still linked his foot and ankle, each spurting a tiny spark. He couldn’t feel them through the gloves, but his retina display helpfully informed him with blinking red text that he was losing connection to the limb. 

With a yank of the last wire, his foot clattered to the concrete.

The difference was instant. For once in his life, he felt … weightless and free.

He made room for the discarded foot on the table, setting it up like a shrine amid the wrenches and lug nuts, before hunkering over his ankle again and cleaning the grime from the socket with an old rag. 

THUD.

Kageyama jerked, his head smacking the underside of the table. He shoved back from the desk, ready to cuss someone out, his scowl landing first on a lifeless android that sat squat on his worktable and then the man behind it, if you could call him a man and not a boy. He was met with startled copper-brown eyes and fiery orange hair that stuck out in random places that hung past his ears and lips that every girl and gay boy in the country admired a thousand times.

His scowl vanished. 

The boy’s own surprise was short-lived, melting into a heartfelt apology. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize anyone was back there.”

Kageyama barely heard him above the blankness in his mind. With his heartbeat gathering speed, his retina display scanned the boy’s features, so familiar from years spent watching him on netscreens. He seemed shorter in real life (which oddly made him smile at the fact that he was taller than the crown prince) and the full length volleyball jersey was like none of the fine clothes he usually made appearances in, but still, it took only 2.6 seconds for Kageyama’s scanner to measure the points of his face and link his image to the net database. Another second and the display informed him of what he already knew; details scribbled across the bottom of his vision in a stream of green text. 

PRINCE HINATA SHOYO, CROWN PRINCE OF THE EASTERN COMMONWEALTH

ID #1082719010

BORN 21 JUNE 108 T.E.

PRONOUNS: HE/HIM 

FF 88,987 MEDIA HITS, REVERSE CHRON

POSTED 14 AUG 126 T.E.:  _ A PRESS MEETING IS TO BE HOSTED BY THE ROYAL SIBLINGS OF THE EASTERN COMMONWEALTH ON 15 AUG TO DISCUSS THE ONGOING LETUMOSIS RESEARCH AND POSSIBLE LEADS FOR AN ANTIDOTE-  _

Kageyama launched up from his chair, nearly toppling over when he forgot about his missing limb. Steadying himself with both hands on the table, he managed an awkward bow. 

“Your Highness,” He stammered, head lowered, glad that he couldn’t see his empty ankle behind the tablecloth. 

The prince flinched and cast a glance over his shoulder before hunching towards him. “Maybe, um …” --- he pulled his fingers across his lips which made Kageyama bite him despite him being the Crown Prince of the Eastern Commonwealth and it could be considered treason to bite him- “on the Highness stuff?” 

Wide-eyed, Kageyama forced a shaky nod. “Right. Of course. How- can I- are you-” he swallowed, the words sticking like bean paste to his tongue, while he tried to control the gay panick that he was experiencing at the current moment. He cursed out Oikawa, Suga, and Emerald for his emotions towards the prince. He reminded himself to flip off Suga and Emerald when he came home from work. He didn’t want this gay panic, thank you very much. 

“I’m looking for Tobio Kageyama,” said the prince. “Are they around?” 

Kageyama dared to lift one stabilizing from the table, using it to tug the hem of his glove higher on his wrist. Staring at the spot that was above the prince’s head, he stammered, “I-I’m Tobio Kageyama.” 

His eyes followed the prince’s, perfect hand, mind you, as he planted it on top of the android's bulbous head. 

“ _ You’re _ Tobio Kageyama?” 

“Yes, Your High-” He bit down on his lip, before he messed up seriously. 

“The mechanic?” 

“Isn’t obvious, Dumbass.” 

Kageyama quickly slapped his mouth, the moment he called the Crown Prince of The Eastern Commonwealth, a dumbass. He glanced over at the prince, to see how he was reacting to being called a dumbass. He prayed that he didn’t sign his death sentence with that one sentence.

“Did you just call me a dumbass?” 

“Maybe.”

“That is a first, but are they wrong?” 

“You aren’t mad at me?” 

“I don’t know. I will have to think about it.” 

“Ok. How can I help you, then?” Kageyama asked, desperately wanting to change the topic before he made matters worse.

Instead of answering, the prince looked up at him so he had no choice but to meet his eyes that seemed to be sparkling in amusement, and dashed a breathtaking grin at him. He sighed, glad that he wasn’t mad at him and he wouldn’t be killed from calling him a dumbass. 

“You’re not quite what I was expecting.” Prince Hinata commented. 

“Oh is that so. Were you expecting an old man then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Of course, you would.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that you have very typical thinking.” 

“I do not!” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes I am. Ok back to business before I have to kill you.” Prince Hinata joked, reminding Kageyama of who he was talking to.

Kageyama,back in business mode, reached for the android, eager to forget how he interacted with the prince, and pulled it to his side of the table. “What seems to be wrong with the android, Your Highness?”

The android looked like it had just stepped off the conveyor belt, but Kageyama could tell from the mock-feminine shape that it was an outdated model. The design was sleek, though, with a spherical head atop a pear-shaped body and a glossy white finish. 

“I can’t get them to turn on,” said Prince Hinata, watching as Kageyama examined the robot. “They were working fine one day, and the next, nothing.”

Kageyama turned the android around so its sensor light faced the prince. He was glad to have routine tasks for his hands and routine questions for his mouth- something to focus on so he wouldn’t insult the prince again and not to get flustered by the fact that he had insulted him which would lead him to losing control of his brain’s net connection again. “Have you had problems with them before?” 

“No. They get a weekly checkup from the mechanics at the palace and this is the first problem that they have encountered with them.” 

Leaning forward, Prince Hinata picked up Kageyama’s small metal foot from its place on the worktable, turning it curiously over in his palms. Kageyama scowled at the prince, watching as he peered into the wire-filled cavity, fiddled with the flexible joints of the toes. He used the too-long sleeve of his volleyball jersey to polish off a smudge. When he looked up from the foot, Kageyama was still scowling at him. 

“Why are scowling at me?” Prince Hinata asked. 

“Because you were messing with an old mechanical foot, who does that?” 

“Apparently I do!” Prince Hinata put the foot back down on the workbench and made eye contact with Kageyama. Who quickly averted his gaze from the prince.

“Ok weirdo, also aren’t you hot from wearing that jersey.”

“I am going to ignore that comment, and Yes I am hot but I’m trying to be inconspicuous.” 

Kageyama considered telling him it wasn’t working but thought better of it. The lack of a throng of screaming girls surrounding his booth was probably evidence that it was working better than he suspected. Instead of looking like a royal heart throb, he just looked crazy.

Clearing his throat, Kageyama refocused on the android. He found the nearly invisible latch and opened its back panel. “Why aren’t the royal mechanics fixing them?”

“They tried but couldn’t figure it out. Someone suggested I bring them to you.” The prince turned his attention away from Kageyama to the shelves of old and battered parts- parts for androids, hovers, netscreens, portscreens. Parts for cyborgs, intermingled with volleyballs that Kageyama had been collecting. “They say you’re the best mechanic in New Karasuno. I wasn’t expecting some like you.”

“Do they?” Kageyama murmured, ignoring the last part that the prince had said. 

He wasn’t the first to voice surprise. Most of his customers couldn’t fathom how a teenager could be the best mechanic in the city, and he never broadcast the reason for his talent. The fewer people who knew he was cyborg, the better. He was sure that he’d go mad and attack them with a volleyball if  _ all _ the market shopkeepers looked at him with the same disdain as Chang Ursa did. 

He nudged some of the wires aside with his pinkie. “Sometimes they just get worn out. Maybe it’s time to upgrade to a new model.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. They contain top-secret information. It’s a matter of national security that I retrieve it … before anyone else does.” 

Fingers stalling, Kageyama glanced up at him. 

He held his gaze a full three seconds before his lips twitched. “I’m joking. Izumu was my first android. It’s sentimental for me and my younger sister Natsu.” 

An orange light flickered in the corner of Kageyama’s vision. His optobionics had picked up on something, though he didn’t know what- an extra swallow, a too-quick blink, a clenching of the prince’s jaw. 

He was used to the little orange light. It came up all the time. 

It meant that someone was lying.

“Natural security,” he said. “Funny”

The prince listed his head, as if challenging him to contradict him. A strand of orange hair fell into his eyes. Kageyama wisely looked away so as to not cause his snarkiness to overcome him and cause him a whole ton of trouble.

“Tutor 8.6 model,” he said, reading the faintly lit panel in the plastic cranium. The android was nearly twenty years old. Ancient for an android. He whistled in appreciation of the condition of the android. “They look like they are in pristine condition.”

Raising his fist, he thunked the android hard on the side of its head, barely catching it before it toppled over onto the table. The prince jumped at two feet.

Kageyama set the android back on its treads and jabbed the power button but nothing happened. “You’d be surprised how often that works.”

The Prince let out a single, awkward chuckle. “Are you sure you’re Tobia Kageyama? The mechanic?” 

“Kageyama! I’ve got it!” Oikawa wheeled out of the crowd and up to the worktable, his blue sensor flashing, before Kageyama could snidely reply to the question. Lifting one pronged hand, Oikawa slammed a brand-new steel-plated foot onto the desk, in the shadow of the prince’s android. “It’s a huge improvement over the old one, only slightly used, and the wiring compatible as is. Plus, I was able to get the dealer down to just 600 univs.” 

Panic jolted through Kageyama. Still balancing on his human leg, he snatched the foot off the table and dropped it behind him, hoping it wouldn’t dent the foot. “Thank you, Oikawa for the foot. Nguyen- shifu will be delighted to have a replacement foot for his escort-droid.” 

Oikawa’s sensor dimmed. “Nguyen-shifu? I don’t compute.” 

Smiling through locked teeth, Kageyama gestured at the prince. “Oikawa, please pay your respects to our customer.” He lowered his voice, to make sure that Oikawa was the only one hearing him. “His Annoying, Dumbass Imperial Highness.” 

Oikawa barely craned his head about 1 inch, aiming the round sensor up at the prince, who towered more than 1 foot above him. The light flared as his scanner recognized him. “Prince Hinata,” He said, his metallic voice squeaking. “You are even more handsome in person.” 

Kageyama’s stomach twisted in anger and embarrassment, even as the prince laughed, beautifully mind you. 

“That’s enough, Oikawa. Get in the booth.”

Oikawa obeyed, pushing aside the table cloth and ducking under the table, almost flashing Kageyama’s metal extremities. He reminded himself to tell Oikawa to not duck under the table, once again in fear of flashing his metal extremities. 

“You don’t see a personality like that every day, especially a gay android.” said Prince Hinata, leaning against the booth’s door frame as if he went to the market often to drop off androids. “Did you program him yourself? If you did, do you think you could do the same with another android?” 

“No, he came that way. I suspect a programming error, so I don’t think that I can do that if I wanted to do that.” 

“I do not have a programming error!” said Oikawa from behind him. 

“Yeah right. Why would I program you, the way you are?” Kageyama said back to Oikawa which gave him the android version of the middle finger.

When he turned around, he met the prince’s gaze, was caught momentarily dazzled by another easy and beautiful laugh, and ducked his head back behind the prince’s android. 

“So what do you think?” he asked.

“I’ll need to run their diagnostics. It will take me a few days, maybe a week.” Kageyama sat down, grateful to give his leg a rest while he examined the android’s innards. He knew he must be breaking some rule of etiquette, but he had already broken plenty of those rules today and the prince didn’t seem to mind as tipped forward, watching his hands like some sort of creep. 

“Do you need payment up front?” 

He held his left wrist toward him, embedded with his ID chop, but Kageyama waved a glove hand at him. “No, thank you. You can pay, by not telling people that I called you a dumbass today.” 

Prince Hinata looked about to protest but then let his hand fall. “I don’t suppose there’s any hope of having them done before the festival?” 

Kageyama shut the android’s panel. “I don’t think that will be a problem. But without knowing what’s wrong with them-” 

“I know, I know.” He rocked back on his heels. “Just wishful thinking.” 

“How will I contact you when they are ready?” 

“Send a comm to the palace. Or will you be here again next weekend? I could stop by then.” 

“Oh yes!” said Oikawa from the back of the booth. “We’re here every market day. You should come by again. That would be amazing!” 

Kageyama flinched. “You don’t need to-” 

“It’ll be my pleasure and it was nice to talk to you Kageyama.” He dipped his head in polite farewell, simultaneously pulling the edges of the hood farther over his face. Kageyama returned the nod, knowing he should have stood and bowed, but not daring to test his balance a second time. 

He waited until the shadow had disappeared from the tabletop before surveying the square. The prince’s presence among the harried crowd seemed to have gone unnoticed. Kageyama let his muscles relax before he turned his gaze on Lev. 

“So that was Prince Hinata and I called him a dumbass straight to his face.” admitted Kageyama as Oikawa rolled to his side clasping his metal grippers over where his mouth would be if he had a mouth. 

“Of course you did. That was a stupid move, even for you.” 

Kageyama bent over and picked up his replacement foot, dusting it off on his cargo pants. He checked the plating, glad that he hadn’t dented it.

Changing the subject, after Kageyama didn’t reply Oikawa said “Can you imagine Suga’s expression when he hears about this?” 

“I can imagine a lot of high-pitched squealing which will deafen me.” Kageyama allowed one more wary scan of the crowd before the first tickle of giddiness stirred inside her along with the gay panic. He couldn’t wait to tell Suga.  _ The prince himself! _ An abrupt laugh escaped him. It was uncanny. It was unbelievable. It was- 

“Oh  _ dear _ ” 

Kageyama’s smile fell. “What?” 

Oikawa pointed at his forehead with a pronged finger. “You have a grease splotch.” 

Kageyama laughed, “Really Oikawa? That isn’t that bad after all I insulted the fucking crown prince.” 

“Well, at least you didn’t get executed for that. That could be considered high level treason to any of his fangirls.” 

Kageyama wiped his brow, “What does it matter, they will never know that. Come on, help me put this on before any other royalty stops by.” He propped his ankle on the opposite knee and began connecting the color-coordinated wires, wondering if the prince had been fooled. 

“Fits like a glove, doesn’t it?”Oikawa said, holding a handful of screws while Kageyama twisted them into the predrilled holes. 

“It is a very nice foot. I just hope Aoi doesn’t notice. She’d murder me if she knew I’d spent 600 univs on a foot.” He tightened the last screw and stretched out his leg, rolling his ankle forward, back, wiggling the toes. It was a little stiff, and the nerve sensors would need a few days to harmonize with the updated wiring, but at least he wouldn’t have to limp around off-kitler anymore. 

“It’s perfect,” he said, pulling on his boot. He spotted his old foot held in Oikawa’s pincers. “You can throw that piece of shit awa---” 

A scream filled Kageyama’s ears. He flinched, the sound peaking in his audio interface, and turned toward it. The market silenced. The children, who had switched to a game of hide-and-seek among the clustered booths, crept out from their hiding places. 

The scream had come from Chang Ursa, the baker. Baffled Kageyama stood and climbed on top of his chair to peer over the crowd. He spotted Ursa in her booth, behind the glass case of sweet breads and pork buns, gawking at her outstretched hands. 

Kageyama clamped a hand over his nose at the same moment realization through the rest of the square. 

“The plague!” someone yelled. “She has the plague!”

The street filled with panic. Mothers scooped up their children, masking their faces with desperate hands as they scrambled to get away from Ursa’s booth. Shopkeepers slammed shut their rolling doors.

Kindaichi screamed and rushed toward his mother, but she held her hands out to him.  _ No,no, stay back _ . A neighboring shopkeeper grabbed the boy, tucking the child under his arm as he ran. Ursa yelled something after him, but the words were lost in the uproar. 

Kageyama’s stomach churned. They couldn’t run or Oikawa would be trampled in the chaos. Holding his breath, he reached for the cord at the booth’s corner and yanked the metal down its rail. Darkness cloaked them but for a single shard of daylight along the ground. The heat rose up from the concrete floor, stifling in the cramped space. 

“Kageyama?” said Oikawa, worry in his robotic voice. He brighten his sensor, washing the booth with blue light. 

“Don’t worry.” Kageyama said, hopping down from the chair and grabbing the mask he always had on him, just in case there was an outbreak at the market. The screams were already, transforming the booth into its own empty universe. “She’s all the way across the square. We’re fine here.” But he slipped back toward the wall of shelves anyway, just in case the mask didn’t work at well. 

There they waited, Kageyama breathing as shallowly as possible, until they heard the sirens of the emergency hover come and take Ursa away. 


	2. The suit fitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi welcome back to another chapter. This would've been out sooner but I have family over at the current moment and my morning bird sister is sleeping in my room. I will try to produce another chapter tomorrow if I have time.  
> The character key:  
> Cinder ‐ Kageyama  
> Kai - Hinata  
> Adri - Aoi (OC)  
> Peony- Suga  
> Pearl- Emerald (OC)  
> Iko- Oikawa

The emergency sirens hadn’t faded before the hum of another engine rumbled into the square. The market’s silence was split in half by feet thumping on the pavement and then someone spitting commands prusambly to other people. Then a chorus of guttural responses like “yes sir!” that echoed through the empty square. 

Slinging his messenger bag on his back, Kageyama crept across the dusty floor of his booth and pushed past the tablecloth that draped over his work desk. He slipped his fingers into the gap of light beneath the door and inched it open. Pressing his cheeks to the warm, gritty pavement, he was able to make out six sets of yellow boots of hazmat suits across the square. An emergency crew. He peeled the door open farther and watched the emergency crew- all wearing gas masks- as they doused the interior of the both with liquid from a yellow can. Even across, Kageyama wrinkled his nose at the stench. 

“What’s happening?” Oikawa asked from behind him. 

“They’re going to burn Chang-jie’s booth.” Kageyama’s eyes swept along the square, noting the pristine white hover planted near the corner. Other than the emergency clean up crew, the square was abandoned with a bunch of toys that the kids were playing with earlier, among them a lone volleyball, that had oddly survived during the stampede of people getting out of the square. Rolling onto his back, Kageyama peered into Oikawa’s sensor, still glowing faintly in the dark. “We’ll leave when the flames start, when they’re distracted.” 

“Are we in trouble?” 

“No. I just can’t be bothered with a trip to the quarantines today.” 

One of the men spouted an order, followed by shuffling feet. Kageyama turned his head and squinted through the gap. A flame was thrown into the booth. The smell of gasoline was soon met with that of burned toast. The emergency crew stood back, their uniforms silhouetted against the growing flames. 

Reaching up, Kageyama grabbed Prince Hinata’s android around its neck and pulled it down beside him. Tucking it under one arm, he slid the door open enough to crawl through, keeping his eyes on the crew’s backs. Oikawa followed, scooting against the next booth as Kageyama lowered the door. They darted along the storefronts - most left wide open during the mass exodus- while grabbing the lone volleyball that he saw earlier. The desire to have another volleyball controlling him. When they had seen the nearest alleyway between the shops, then ran into the crapped and hot place. Black smoke blotted the sky above them. A couple seconds later, a hoard of news hovers with their annoying ass news reporters buzzed over the skyscaperes on the way to the market square. He was relieved that he ran out of the market square, news reporters are the worst, asking you all types of personal questions. They also might get him discovered as a cyborg and then the whole entire fucking city would know that he was a cyborg and everyone would treat him like a piece of shit. 

Kageyama slowed when they’d put enough distance between them and the market, emerging from the maze of alleys. The sun had started setting and started to cast shadows of the skyscrapers to the west. The air was humid with the august heat, but once and a while there was a gentle warm breeze that was funneled through the alleys, that picked up some garbage from the gutters. Only after they had walked a few blocks away from the market, signs of life appeared again, with masks on, on the street - pedestrians pooling on sidewalks and gossiping with their friends about the outbreak in the market. Netscreens embedded into buildings showed live feeds of what was currently happening in the market. Kageyama scoffed at them, as he read the panicked headlines mounting the infected toll by the second, despite only having one confirmed case as far as he could tell. 

As he and Oikawa walked, towering offices and shopping centers gradually melded into a messy assortment of apartment buildings, built so close that they became an unending stretch of glass and concrete. A major fire hazard in Kageyama’s opinion, but nobody cared about a cyborg’s opinion and continued on with their life without worrying about a possible fire. 

Apartments in this corner of the city had once been spacious and desirable but had been so subdivided and remodeled over time - always trying to cram more people into the same square footage- that the buildings had become labyrinths of corridors and stairwells, that Kageyama always got lost into despite having the floorplan displaying in his brain. Oikawa and Suga always made fun of him constantly. 

But all the crowded ugliness was briefly forgotten as he turned the corner on his own street. For a half-step, New Karasuno Palace could be glimpsed between complexes, sprawling and serene on the cliff that overlooked the city. The palace’s pointed golden roofs sparkled orange beneath the sun, the windows glinting the light back at the city, blinding anyone who looked directly at it. The ornate gables, the tiered pavilions that teetered dangerously to the cliff’s edge, the rounded temples stretching into the heavens. Kageyama paused longer than usual to look up at it, thinking about the annoying orange dumbass who lived beyond those walls, who was up there perhaps this very second doing princely duties looking so annoyingly hot as he did.

Not that he hadn’t _known_ the prince lived there every time he’d seen the palace before, but today he felt a connection he’d never had before, and with it came a smug delight that he often didn’t feel. He had met the prince. He had to come to his booth. He knew his name. 

Sucking in a breath of humid air, Kageyama forced himself to turn away, feeling childish. He was going to start sounding like Oikawa and Suga. 

He shifted the royal android and the volleyball to his other arm as he and Oikawa ducked beneath the overhang of the Phoenix Tower apartments. He flashed his freed wrist at the ID scanner on the wall and heard the clunking of the lock. 

Oikawa used his arm extensions to clop down the stairs as they descended into the basement, a dim maze of storage spaces caged with chicken wire. As a wave of mustu air blew up to meet them, the android turned on his floodlight, dispersing the shadows from the sparse halogens. It was a familiar path from the stairwell to storage space number 18-20 - the cramped, always chilly cell that Aoi allowed Kageyama to use for his work. 

Kageyama cleared a space for the android among the worktable’s clutter and set his messenger bag on the floor, along with the volleyball. He swapped his heavy work gloves for less grungy cotton ones before locking up the storage room. “If that bastard Aoi asks,” he said as they made their way to the elevators, “our booth is nowhere near the baker’s.” 

“Noted, Tobio-chan.” Oikawa’s light flickered.

“Don’t call me Tobio-chan.”

They were alone in the elevator as they started to bicker. It wasn’t until they stepped out onto the eighteenth floor that they stopped bickering and that the building became a crawling hive- children chasing each other down the corridors, both domestic and stray cats creeping tight against the walls, the ever constant blur of netscreens chatter spilling from the doorways. Kageyama adjusted the white-noise output from his brain interface as he dodged the children on his way as he dodged the children on his way to the apartment. 

The door was wide open, making Kageyama pause and check the number before entering and taking off his shoes into his house boots. 

He heard Aoi’s stiff voice from the living room. “Lower the neckline for Emerald. She looks like a old woman.” 

Kageyama peered around the corner. Aoi was standing with one hand on the mantle of the holographic fireplace, wearing a chrysanthemum-embroidered bathrobe that blended in with the collection of garish paper fans that covered the wall behind her - reproductions made to look antique. With her face shimmering with too much powder and her lips painted horrifically bright that was similar to a geisha’s, Aoi looked like a fucking clown that tried to be geisha. Kageyama almost snorted at the sight. 

If she had noticed him loitering in the hallway, she ignored him, like she usually did. What a great step-mother she was. 

The netscreen above the heatless flames was showing footage from the market. The baker’s booth had been reduced to rubble and the skeleton of a portable oven.

In the center of the room, Suga and Emerald each stood swathed in silk and tulle. Suga was getting a suit adjusted to him by a woman that Kageyama didn’t recognize. Suga smiled as caught the sight of Kageyama over the woman’s shoulder, a glow bursting across his face. 

Kageyama grinned back. His older step-brother looked even more angelic than he usually did, his suit all a light blue and shimmering, with hints of silver like his hair when caught in the fire’s light. 

“Emerald.” Aoi gestured at her youngest daughter with a twirling finger, Emerald spun around, displaying a row of faux gem buttons down her back. Her dress was stunning with its snug bodice and flouncy skirt with beautiful jade green fabric. “Let’s take in her waist some more.”

Threading a pin through one of the buttonholes on Suga's suit, the stranger started at seeing Kageyama in the doorway but quickly turned away. Stepping back, the woman removed a bundle of sharp pins that could make someone bleed to death from between her lips and tilted her head to one side. “It’s already very snug,” she said. “We want her to dance, don’t we?”

“We want her to find a boyfriend,” said Aoi. 

“No, No,” the seamstress tittered even as she reached out and pinched the material around Emerald’s waist. Kageyama could tell Emerald was sucking in her stomach as much as she could; he could detect the edges of ribs beneath the fabric. “She is too young to date.” 

“I’m fourteen,” Emerald said, glaring at the woman. 

“Fourteen! See? A child. Now is for fun, right, girl?” 

“She is too expensive for _fun_ ,” said Aoi. “I expect results from this gown.” 

“Do not worry, Kageyama-jie. She will be lovely as morning dew.” Stuffing pins back into her mouth, the woman returned her focus on Suga’s buttons. 

Aoi lifted her chin and finally acknowledged Kageyama’s presence by swiping her gaze down to his house shoes and cargo pants. “Why aren’t you at the market?” 

“It closed down early today,” said Kageyama, with a meaningful look at the netscreen that Aoi didn’t follow. Wanting to get a reaction from Aoi and knowing what she was going to say, he thrusted a thumb towards the hall and said “So I’ll just get cleaned up, and then I’ll be ready for my suit fitting.” 

The seamstress paused. “Another suit, Kageyama-jie? I did not bring enough material for-” 

“Have you replaced the magbelt on the hover yet?” 

Kageyama scowled at Aoi. “No. Not yet.” 

“Well, none of us will be going to the ball unless that gets fixed, will we?” 

Kageyama barely tried to stifle his irritation. They’d already had this conservation twice in the past week, much to his own irritation. “I need money to buy a new magbelt. 800 univs, at least. If income from the market wasn’t deposited directly into your account, I would have bought one by now.” 

“And trust you not to spend it all on frivolous toys?” Aoi said _toys_ with a glare at Oikawa and a curl of her lip, even though Oikawa technically belonged to her. “Besides, I can’t afford both a magbelt _and_ a new suit that you’ll only wear once. You’ll have to find some other way of fixing the hover or find your own suit for the ball.” 

Irritation hardened even more in Kageyama’s gut. He might have pointed out that Emerald and Suga could have been given ready-made rather than custom made clothes in order to budget for Kageyama’s as well. He might have pointed out that they would only wear the finery one time too. He might have pointed out that, he was the one doing the work, the money should have been his to spend as he saw fit. But all arguments would come to nothing. Legally, Kageyama belonged to Aoi as much as the household android and so too his money, his few possessions, even the new foot he’d just attached. Aoi loved to remind him of that, especially when he was extremely pissed off at her. 

So he held in the anger down before Aoi could see a spark of rebellion and send him off to do her dirty work that was mostly baking treats to their neighbors and chatting with them for hours on end with Aoi, which he hated with a passion. 

“I may be able to offer a trade for the magbelt. I’ll check with the local shops.” 

Aoi sniffed. “Why don’t we trade that worthless android for it?” 

Oikawa quickly ducked behind Kageyama’s legs and flipped her off behind his leg. 

“We wouldn’t get much for him,” said Kageyama. “Nobody wants such an old model.” 

“No. They don’t, do they? Perhaps I will have to sell both of you as spare parts.” Aoi reached forward and fidgeted with the unfinished hem of Emerald’s sleeve. “I don’t care how you fix the hover, just it before the ball- and cheaply. I don’t need that pile of junk taking up valuable parking space.” 

Kageyana tucked his hands into his back pockets. “Are you saying that if I fix the hover and get a suit, I can really go this year?” 

Aoi lips puckered slightly at the corners. “It will be a miracle if you can find something suitable to wear that will hide your” --- her gaze dropped to Kageyama’s boots- “ _eccentricities._ But yes. If you fix the hover, I suppose you can go to the ball.”

Suga flashed Kageyama a stunned half smile, while his younger sister spun on their mother. “You can’t be serious! _Him?_ Go with _us?_ ” 

Kageyama pressed his shoulder into the door frame, trying to hide his disappointment that he had quickly raised, from Suga. Emerald’s outrage was unnecessary. A little orange light had flickered in the corner of Kageyama’s vision- Aoi had not meant her promise, like he expected. 

“Well,” he said, attempting to look heartened. “I guess I’d better go find a magebelt then.” 

Aoi flourished her arm at Kageyama, her attention once again captivated by Emerald’s dress. A silent dismissal. 

Kageyama cast one more look at his stepsiblings’ finery before backing out of the room. He had barely turned toward the hallway when Emerald squealed. 

“Prince Hinata!” 

Freezing, Kageyama glanced back at the netscreen. The plague alerts had been replaced with a live broadcast from the palace’s pressroom. Prince Hinata and his younger sister Natsu were speaking to a crowd of journalists- human and android. 

“Volume on,” said Emerald, batting the seamstress away. 

“... research continues to be our top priority,” Princess Natsu was saying, while Prince Hinata was gripping the sides of a podium. 

Hinata added “Our research team is determined to find a vaccine for this disease that has taken one of our parents and threatens to take the other, as well as thousands of our citizens. The circumstances are made even more desperate in the face of the outbreak that occurred today within the city limits. No longer can we claim this disease is relegated to the poor, rural communities of our country. Letumosis threatens us all, and we will find a way to stop it. Only then can we begin to rebuild our economy and return the Eastern Commonwealth to its once prosperous state.” 

Unenthusiastic applause shifted through the crowd, as the royal siblings bowed to the room. Research on the plague had been underway since the first outbreak had occurred in a small town in the African Union over a dozen years ago. It seemed that very little progress had been made, because it didn’t affect the rich and top government officials. Meanwhile the disease had surfaced in hundreds of seemingly unconnected communities throughout the world. Hundreds of thousands of people had fallen ill, suffered, died. Even Aoi’s husband had contracted it on a trip to Europe- the same trip during which he’d agreed to become the guardian of an eleven-year-old orphaned cyborg. One of Kageyama’s few memories of the man was of him being carted away to the quartines while Aoi raved at how he could not leave her with this _thing_. 

Aoi never talked about her husband, and few memories of him lingered in the apartment. The only reminder that he’d even existed was found in a row of holographic plaques and carved medallions that lined the fireplace’s mantel- achievement awards and congratulatory prizes from an international technology fair, three years running. Kageyama had no idea what he’d invented. Evidently, whatever it hadn’t taken off, because he’d left his family almost no money when he had died. 

On the screen the royal siblings’s speech was interrupted when a stranger stepped onto the platform and handed a note to them. Their eyes clouded over and then the screen blackened. 

The pressroom was replaced with a desk before a blue screen. A woman sat behind it, expressionless but with whitened knuckles atop the desk. 

“We interrupt Their Imperial Highnesses’s press conference with an update on the status of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Kenshin. The emperor’s physicians have just informed us that His Majesty has entered into the third stage of letumosis.” 

Gasping, the seamstress pulled the pins from her mouth.

Kageyama pressed himself against the door frame. He had not even thought to give Hinata his condolences or wishes for the emperor’s return of health. He must think him even more insensitive. So ignorant even more than he was already.

“We are told that everything is being done to ensure His Imperial Majesty’s comfort at this time, and palace officials tell us that researchers are working nonstop in their search for a vaccine. Volunteers are still urgently needed for antidote testing, even as the cyborg draft continues.

“There has been much controversy regarding the 126th Annual Peace Festival due to the emperor’s illness, but Prince Shoyo and Princess Natsu have told the press that the festival will continue as scheduled and that he hopes it might bring some joy in this otherwise tragic time.” The anchor paused, hesitating, even with the prompter before her. Her face softened, and her stiff voice had a warble when she finished. “Long live the Emperor.” 

The seamstress murmured the words back to the anchor. The screen went black again before returning to the press conference, but The Royal Siblings had left the stage, and the audience of journalists was in upheaval as they reported to their individual cameras. 

“I know a cyborg who could volunteer for plague testing,” said Emerald. “Why wait for the draft?” 

Kageyama and Suga leveled a glare at Emerald, who was considerably shorter than the both of them. “Good idea,” he said. “and then _you_ and suga can get a job to pay for your pretty dress.” 

Emerald snarled. “They reimburse the volunteers’ families, wirehead.” 

The cyborg draft had been started by some royal research team a year ago. Every morning, a new ID number was drawn from the pool of so many thousand cyborgs who resided in the Eastern Commonwealth. Subjects had been carted in from provinces as far-reaching as Mumbai and Singapore to act as guinea pigs for the antidote testing. It was made out to be some sort of honor, giving your life for the good of humanity, but it was really just a reminder that cyborgs were not like everyone else. Many of them had been given a second chance at life by the generous hand of scientists and therefore owed their very existence to those who had created them. They were lucky to have lived this long, many thought. It’s only right that they should be the first to give up their lives in search of the cure. 

“We can’t volunteer Tobio,” said Suga. “I need him to fix my portscreen.” 

Emerald sniffed and turned away from the both of them. Suga flipped off Emerald behind her back. 

“Stop bickering,” said Aoi. “Suga don’t flip your younger sister off, it is not appropriate.” 

Kageyama stepped back into the hallway as the seamstress returned to her work. Oikawa was already two steps ahead of him, eager to escape Aoi’s presence. 

He appreciated Suga coming for his defense, of course, but he knew in the end it wouldn’t matter. Aoi would never volunteer him for testing, because that would be the end of her only income, and Kageyama was sure that his stepmother had never worked a day in her life. 

But if the draft chose him, no one could do anything about it. And it seemed that lately a disproportionate number of those were chosen from New Karasuno and the surrounding suburbs. 

Every time one of the draft’s victims was a teenage boy, Kageyama imagined a clock ticking inside his head.


	3. Suga and Oikawa annoys Kageyama while he works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NEURODIVERGENT KAGEYAMA SUPREMACY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I did in fact bust out another chapter this week! Yay for me. Please enjoy the chapter or I will have your kneecaps.  
> Key for Characters:  
> Cinder- Kageyama  
> Iko- Oikawa  
> Peony- Suga

“You’re going to the ball” Oikawa tapped his grippers together in an imitation of clapping. “We got to get you prepared. You don’t want to look ugly like you usually do, do you Tobio-chan?” 

“Once again I am asking for you not to call me Tobio-chan, just call me Tobio or Kageyama. It sounds like we are dating and I would not date an android ever. Anyways, could you bring that light over there?” Kageyama said, yanking out the top drawer of his standing toolbox. He riffled through it, spare bolts and sockets jangling as Oikawsa scooted closer. A wash of bluish light dispersed the dimness of the storage room.

“It is just a nickname and nobody cares what I call you. So I will call you Tobio-chan! Imagine the ball! Think of the food that they’ll have. Maybe Milk Bread! And the dresses. And music!” 

Kageyama ignored him, selecting an assortment of varying tools and arranging them on Oikawa’s magnetic torso.

“Oh, my stars! Think about Prince Hinata! You could dance with Prince Hinata! I did see how you looked at him during the market today!” 

This made Kageyama pause and squint into Oikawa’s blinding light. “Why would the prince dance with me? He is probably isn’t even gay.”

Oikawa’s fan hummed as he sought an answer. “There is evidence that Prince Hinata is gay, his younger sister Natsu might be as well. Also you wouldn’t have any grease splotches that you usually have while working.”

Kageyama fought down a chuckle. Android reasoning could be so simplistic while being so advanced. “You are such a dumbass. I hate to break this to you, Oikawa,” He said, slamming in the drawer and moving on to the next, “but I’m not going to the ball.” 

Oikawa’s fan stopped momentarily, started up again. “I am not a dumbass, but I don’t compute. What are you trying to say?” 

“Do I have to repeat it to you? I am not going to the ball.” Kageyama rolled his eyes at the android. “For starters, I just spent my life savings on a new foot. But even if I did have money, why would I spend it on a suit or shoes or gloves? What a waste of money and of my time.” 

“What else could you have to spend it on?” 

“A complete set of wrenches? A toolbox with drawers that don’t stick?” He slammed in the second drawer with his shoulder to emphasize his point. “High Quality Volleyball gear so I can play? A down payment on my own apartment where I won’t have to be Aoi’s servant anymore?” 

“Aoi wouldn’t sign the release documents.” 

Kageyama opened the third drawer. “I know. It would cost a lot more than a silly suit anway.” He grabbed a ratchet and a handful of wrenches and set them on top of the toolbox. “Maybe I’d get a skin grafting.” 

“Your skin is fine.” 

Kageyama glanced at Oikawa from the corner of his eye. 

“Oh. You mean your cyborg parts.” 

Shutting the third drawer, Kageyama grabbed his messenger bag from the work desk and shoveled the tools into it. “What else do you think we’ll- oh the floor jack. Where’d I put that?” 

“You’re being unreasonable,” said Oikawa. “Maybe you can trade for a dress or get one on consignment. There is a vintage clothing store that Emerald has been talking about nonstop on Niiyama street. You know the one I mean?” 

Kageyama shuffled around the random tools that had collected underneath the worktable. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going.” 

“But it does matter. Don’t you want to go to the ball and dance with the Prince?” 

“Oikawa, I don’t particularly want to go to the ball. Also I am only fixing an android for him. It’s not like we are friends now, especially after I treated him.” Mentioning the prince’s android sparked a memory, and a moment later Kageyama pulled the floor jack out from behind its tread. “And it doesn’t matter because Aoi will never let me go, even if I wanted to go.” 

“She said if you fixed the hover-” 

“Right. And after I fix the hover? What about Suga’s portscreen that’s always acting up?” He scanned the room and spotted a rusty android tucked away in the corner. “What about the old Gard 7.3? What I am saying is that she has no real intent of letting me go. As long as she can come up with things for me to fix, my ‘chores’ will never be done.”

Kageyama shoved a couple jack stands into his bag, telling himself that he didn’t even care in the first place. He wouldn’t fit in at a formal ball anyways. Even if he could find a suit and gloves that would fit him and hide his metal limbs, he would still not know how to interact with people in a non work place setting like a proper gentleman would and didn’t know anyone to talk to other than his step siblings and the prince himself. He would just end sitting off the dance floor and making fun of any person who swooned to get The Royal Sibling’s attention, pretending that he wasn’t jealous. Pretending it didn’t bother him.

Although he was curious about the food. 

There was a chance, if he did come to the dance that he and the Prince could hang out and talk, maybe dance if the Prince like, himself. Of course out of friendliness when he saw him standing by himself near one of the punch bowls. He was pretty sure that the Prince would be like that, since he was kind to him even after he had insulted him. 

The precarious fantasy crashed down around him as quickly as it had begun. It was impossible. Not worth thinking about. 

He was cyborg and neurodivergent, and he would never go to the ball. 

“I think that is everything,” he said, masking up his disappointment by adjusting the messenger bag over his shoulder for the thousandth time. “You ready?” 

“I still don’t understand?” said Oikawa. “If fixing the hover won’t convince Aoi to let you go to the ball, then why are we going to the junkyard? If she wants a magbelt so bad, why doesn’t she go dig through the trash to find one?” 

“Because ball or no, I  _ do _ believe that she would sell you off for pocket change if given any reason. Besides, with them off to the ball, we’ll have the apartment to ourselves. Doesn;t that sound nice?” 

“That sounds great to me!” 

Kageyama turned to see Suga leaning against the doorway, out of his fancy suit into regular summer clothes, baggy t-shirt and gym shorts. He wished he could wear clothes like that but his sensitivities and his metal limbs said no. He couldn’t stand the short clothes and how they left his legs with air brushing against them, vulnerable to everyone looking at him and his metal limbs. 

“I am going to strangle Mom,” said Suga. “She’s making me loony, ‘Emerald needs to find a boyfriend,’ ‘My children are such a drain,’ ‘No one appreciate what I do for them,’ yap, yap, yap.” He wobbled his fingers in the air in mockery of his mother. 

“What are you doing down here?” 

“ _ Hiding _ . Oh, and to ask if you could look at my portscreen.” He pulled a handheld screen from the pocket in his gym shorts, offering it to Kageyama. 

Kageyama took it, but his eyes were on Suga's clothing. Staring at the fact, he was out of the suit already. “How did you get out Aoi’s presence and change into casual clothing?”

“Oh, I ran out of the house into Sawamura’s house and changed into the clothes that I had already there. So what do you think?” 

“What is up with you and Sawamura-kun? Are you two dating?” 

“Mom, should’ve had one made a suit for you too as well. It’s not fair.” Suga quickly changed the subject. 

“I don’t really want to go.” Kageyama shrugged. Suga’s tone had such sympathy that he didn’t bother to argue or mention his and Sawamura-kun’s relationship with each other. He was usually able to ignore the jealousy he had toward his step-siblings - how Aoi doted on them, how soft their hands were- especially when Suga was the only human friend he had. But he could not swallow the twitch of envy that he had about how he was treated compared to Suga and Emerald. But that is just life, He was the outcast out of his step-family that were all fully human and not broken like he was. 

He brushed the topic away. “What’s wrong with the port?” 

“It’s doing that rubberish thing again.” Suga pushed some tools off a stack of empty paint cans, sitting down on the most stable stack that he could find. He started to swing his feet that his heels beat steadily against the plastic. 

“Have you been downloading those stupid strategy game apps again?” 

“No.” 

Kageyama raised his eyebrow. 

“One language app. That’s it. And I needed it for class.”

Kageyama set the portscreen on the work desk, next to Prince Hinata’s android. “I’ll look at it tomorrow. We’re off to find a magbelt for Her Majesty,” 

“Oh? Where are you going?” 

“The junkyard.” 

“It’s going to be a bundle of fun,” said Oikawa. 

“Really?” said Suga. “Can I come?” 

Kageyama laughed. “He is being his usual shitty self and is just kidding. Oikawa has been practicing his sarcasm again and failing miserably again.” 

There was a quick protest from Oikawa before Kageyama covered his sensor and silenced him. 

“I know, I just don’t care. Anything’s better than going back into that stuffy apartment.” Suga fanned himself and absently leaned back against a stack of metal shelving. “Can I? Sounds exciting and if you say no I am still coming. I am older than you after all.” 

“It sounds dirty and stinky,” said Oikawa peeling Kageyama’s hands off his sensor. 

“How would you know?” Kageyama asked. “You don’t have scent receptors.I made sure of that” 

“I have a fantastic imagination.” 

Smirking, Kageyama half shoved his step-brother toward the door. “Fine, go get shoes on whenever you have them. But be quick. I have a story to tell you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter despite it being pretty short, the next chapter should be out on February 18, 2021. Feel free to comment about the story. This chapter was kinda hard to write a little bit because I didn't want to make Oikawa sound too femme since he isn't really femme at all.  
> -Kat/ Moon  
> Have a good week :)


	4. Suga is the ulimate wingman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cinder- Kageyama   
> Iko- Oikawa  
> Peony- Suga

Suga slugged Kageyama in the shoulder, nearly pushing him into a pile of bald android treads. “How could you wait so long to tell me? You’ve only been home for, what,  _ four hours? _ ” 

“I am sorry,” said Kageyama, rubbing his shoulder. “You really pack a punch Suga. Are you working out with your boyfriend?” 

“Maybe. But why didn’t you tell me what happened with Prince Hinata.” shrugged Suga. 

“There wasn’t a good time, and I didn’t want Aoi to know. I don’t want her to take advantage of it.” 

“Who cares about what Mom thinks?  _ I  _ want to take advantage of this. Good stars, the prince. In your booth. I can’t believe I wasn’t there. Why wasn’t I there” 

“You were busy being fitted in silk and brocade.” 

“Ugh.” Suga kicked a broken headlight out of his path. “You should have commed me. I would have been there in two seconds, unfinished suit and all.  _ Ugh.  _ I hate you. It’s official, I  _ hate _ you. Are you going to see him again? I mean, you’ll have to, right? I might be able to stop hating you if you  _ promise _ to bring me with you, all right, deal?” 

“Found one!” Oikawa called ten yards ahead. His floodlight targeted the body of a rusted hover, entrenching the piles of debris behind it in shadows. 

“So? What was he like?” Suga said, keeping pace as Kageyama hurried toward the earthbound vehicle. 

“I don’t know,” said Kageyama, unlatching the vehicle’s hood and lifting it up on the prop-rod. “Ah, good, it hasn’t been scavenged.” 

Oikawa scooted out of Kageyama’s way. “He was polite enough to not execute Kageyama on the spot when he called the prince, and I quote ‘a dumbass.’” 

Suga gasped. “Oh, you didn’t!” 

“Yes I did. He was acting like a dumbass, so I called him out on that. If he didn’t want to be called out on that, He wouldn’t act like a literal dumbass in my presence. Oikawa, I could use some light in here.” 

Oikawa tilted his head forward, illuminating the engine compartment. On Kageyama’s other side, Suga clucked his tongue. “Maybe he thought that all mechanics that are vulgar or he is used to being called a dumbass.” 

“That makes me feel much better.” Kageyama pulled a pair of pliers from his bag. The night sky was clear, and though the lights from the city blocked out any stars, the sharp crescent moon lurked near the horizon, a sleepy eye squinting through the haze. 

“So what is your opinion on the prince other than he being a dumbass.” Suga leaned against the front bumper, arms folded. 

Kageyama stopped poking the pliers around the engine as the memory of his easy smile rushed into him. Though Prince Hinata had long been one of Suga’s favorite topics- he kept on trying to convince Emerald or Kageyama to try and get in Prince Hinata’s good graces.- Kageyama had never imagined that he might accidentally play into Suga’s plans. In fact, he’d always thought Suga’s plans were a little bit silly, a little bit too crazy.  _ Prince Hinata this, Prince Hinata that _ . An impossible fantasy. 

But now… 

Something in Kageyama’s face must have said enough, because Kageyama suddenly shrieked and lunged at him, wrapping his arms around Kageyama’s waist and hopping up and down. “I knew it! I  _ knew _ you liked him! I can’t believe you actually met him! It’s not fair. Did I mention how much I hate you?” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Kageyama, prying Suga’s arms off him. “Now go be giddy somewhere else. I’m trying to work.” 

Suga made a face and skipped away, twirling amid the piles of junk. “What else? Tell me everything. What did he say? What did he do? How did he react to you calling him a dumbass?” 

“Nothing,” said Kageyama. “He just asked me to fix his android.” He peeled away the spiderwebs from what had once been the hover’s solar generator but was now little more than a plastic shell. A cloud of dust kicked up into his face and he pulled away, coughing, “Ratchet?” 

Oikawa plucked the ratchet from his torso and handed it to Kageyama. 

“What kind of android is it?” asked Suga. 

Kageyama pried the generator from the compartment with a grunt and set it on the ground beside the hover. “An old one.” 

“Tutor 8.6,” said Oikawa. “Older than me. And he said he would come back to the market next weekend to pick it up.” 

Suga kicked a rusted oil can out of the path before bending over the engine. “The news said the market’s going to be shut down next week because of the outbreak.” 

“Oh- I hadn’t that.” Kageyama wiped his hands on his pants, peering down into the engine’s lower compartment. “I guess we’ll have to drop it off at the palace then.” 

“Yes!” Suga jumped in place. “We’ll go together and you can introduce me and- and -” 

“Aha!” Kageyama beamed. “Magbelt.” 

Suga cupped his cheek in his palm, raising his voice. “ _ And then _ he’ll ask me to go to the ball and- THEN I WILL REJECT HIM! Emerald would be so  _ Livid! _ I would love to see the look on her face when I would reject him right at the ball because my boyfriend would look so dashing and outshine him.” He laughed, as if angering his younger sister and the whole entire world were life’s greatest accomplishment.

“If the android’s even done before the ball.” Kageyama selected a wrench from the tool belt slung around his hips. He didn’t want to inform Suga that Prince Hinata probably wouldn’t be the one signing for deliveries at the palace. 

Suga whisked his hand through the air. “Well, or whenever.” 

“I want to go to the ball,” said Oikawa, gazing at the horizon. “It’s prejudice not to let androids attend.” 

“Petition the government then. I’m sure that Suga will be happy to take your cause directly to the prince himself.” Kageyama clamped onto Oikawa’s spherical head and forced him to aim the light back into the hood. “Now hold still. I’ve just about got this end detached.” 

Kageyama stuck the wrench to Oikawa, then pried the magbelt from its bracket, letting it clatter to the ground below. “One side down, one to go.” He led the way around the hover, clearing a path through the garbage so Oikawa’s treads wouldn’t get stuck. 

Suga followed and climbed on top of the hover’s trunk, folding his legs beneath him. “You know, some people are saying he’s going to be looking with a significant other at the ball.” 

“A Significant Other!” said Oikawa “How Gay!” 

Kageyama lowered himself onto his side behind the hover’s back bumper and took a small flashlight from his tool belt. “Hand me that wrench again?” 

“As in, not going to happen. He’s only, what? Nineteen?” Tucking the flashlight between his teeth, Kageyama took the wrench from Oikawa. The bolts in the back had less rust on them, better protected from the overhanging trunk, and took only a few quick turns to loosen.

“Eighteen and a half,” said Suga. “And it’s true. All gossip links are saying so.” 

Kageyama grunted. 

He didn’t answer as he loosened the final bolt gripping the magbelt. It released and fell to the ground with a clang. “There we go.” He slid out from beneath the car and tucked the wrench and flashlight into his calf compartment before standing. “See any other hovers worth scavenging while we’re here?” Pulling the magbelt out from beneath the hover, he folded it at its hinges, forming a less cumbersome metal rod. 

“I did see something over there.” Oikawa swished the light around the stacks. “Not sure what model, though.” 

“Great. Lead the way.” Kageyama nudged the android with the belt. Oikawa took off, muttering about being stuck in junkyards while Aoi was all clean and cozy at home. 

“Besides,” said Suga, hopping off the trunk, “the rumour that he’s looking for a significant other is a lot better than what the  _ other  _ rumours are saying.” 

“Let me guess. Prince Hinata is actually a martian with his freaky and unnatural orange hair. Or no, no - he had an illegitimate child with an escort, didn’t he?” 

“Hey respect your elders! Also can Escort-droids have  _ children? _ ” 

“No. Dumbass. They don’t have the organs for that.” 

Suga huffed, blowing a curl off his brow. “Well, this is even worse. They sat there’s been talk of him marrying…” He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “Queen Lusina.” 

“ _ Queen _ \---” Kageyama froze and clamped a gloved hand over his mouth, glancing around as if someone could be lurking in the garbage, listening. He pulled his hand away but kept his voice down. “Honestly, Suga. Those tabloids are going to rot your brain.” 

“I don’t want to believe it either, but they’re all saying it. That’s why the queen’s witchy ambassador has been staying at the palace, so she can secure an alliance. It’s all very political and might ruin my perfect plan.” 

“I don’t think so. Prince Hinata would never marry her. I don’t think that he even likes girls. So I think your plan will be safe and one of us will fall in the prince’s liking.” 

“You don’t know that. He could be bisexual.” 

Kageyama was sure he was right about marrying Lusina thing. He might not know about intergalactic policies or cared for them for that matter. But he knew Prince Hinata would be an even bigger dumbass than he already was, to marry Queen Lusina. 

The lingering moon caught Kageyama’s attention, and a shock of goose bumps covered his non-metal arm. The moon had always given him a sense of paranoia, like the people who lived up there could be watching him, and if he stared for too long, he might draw their attention. He knew that he was just making it up, with his anxiety.  _ Superstitious nonsense _ Kageyama thought to himself.  _ But then again everything about Lunars was eerie and superstitious.  _

Lunars were a former earthen colony on the moon that had evolved years ago that weren’t human anymore. People said Lunar could alter a person’s brain- make you see things that aren’t real, feel things you shouldn’t feel, do things you didn’t want to do. Their unnatural power had made them a greedy and violent race, and Queen Lusina was the worst of all of them. 

They said she knew when people were talking about her thousands of miles away. Even down on Earth. 

They said she murdered her older sister, Queen Sars, so she could take the throne from her. They said she’d had her own husband killed too she would be free to make a more advantageous match. They said she had forced her own stepson to mutilate his own face because, at the sweet age of thirteen, he had become more handsome than the jealous queen could stand. 

They said she’d killed her nephew, her only threat to the throne. Prince Atlas had only been three years old when a fire caught in his nursery, killing him and his nanny. 

Some conspiracy theorists thought the prince had survived and was still alive somewhere, waiting for the right time to reclaim his crown and end Lusina’s rule of tyranny, but Kageyama knew it was only desperation that fueled these rumours. After all, they’d found traces of the child’s flesh in the ashes.

“Here.” Oikawa raised his hand and knocked a slab of metal jutting from a huge mound of junk, startling Kageyama from his hyperfixation of the Lunar Society..

He shoved the thoughts aside. Prince Hinata would never marry that witch. He could never marry a Lunar. 

Kageyama pushed a few rusted aerosol cans and an old mattress aside before he was able to clearly make out the hover’s nose. “Good eye, Oikawa. For once.” 

Oikawa pouted, the best that an android could do but didn’t protest. Before they shuffled enough junk out of the way so that the full front of the vehicle could be seen. “I’ve never seen one like this,” Kageyama said, running a hand over the pitted chrome insignia. 

“It's hideous,” said Suga with a sneer. “What an awful color. You would never see me with that color on me.” 

“It must be really old.” Kageyama found the latch and pulled open the hood. He drew back blinking at the mess of metal and plastic that greeted him. “ _ Really  _ old.” He squinted into the front corner of the engine but the undercarriage hid the magbelt clamps from view. “Huh. Point the light over there, would you?” 

Kageyama lowered himself to the dirt. He slicked back his hair before squirming under the hover, shoving aside the jumble of old parts that had been left to rust in the weeds beneath it. 

“Stars,” he muttered when he was able to look up into its belly. Oikawa’s light filtered down from above, through cables and wires, ducts and manifolds, nuts and bolts. “This thing is ancient.” 

“It is in a junkyard,” said Suga. “Of course it is going to be ancient.” 

“I’m serious. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Kageyama ran a hand along a rubber cable. 

The light flashed back and forth as Oikawa’s sensor scanned the engine from above. “Any useful parts?” 

“Good Question.” Kageyama’s vision tinted blue as he connected to his netlink. “Could you read me the VIN by the windshield?” He searched the number as Suga read it to him and had the hover’s blueprint downloaded in minutes, the display creating an overlaid image on top of the engine above him. “Seems to be fairly intact,” he murmured, running his fingertips along a cluster of wires over his head. He followed them with his eyes, titling his head to trace the path from hoses to pulleys to axles, trying to decipher how it all fit together. How it all worked. 

“This is so cool.” 

“I’m Bored, I thought this was going to be more interesting,” complained Suga. 

Sighing, Kageyama searched for the magbelt on the blueprint, but a green error message flashed in his vision. He tried just  _ Magnet _ , and then just  _ Belt _ , finally receiving a hit. The blueprint lit up a rubber band wrapped around a series of gears, encapsulated by a metal cover- something called a timing belt. Frowning, Kageyama reached up and felt for the bolts and lock washers that attached the cover to the engine block. 

He thought timing belts hadn’t been used since internal combustion had become obsolete. 

Gasping, he craned his neck to the side. In the deep shadows beneath the vehicle, he could make out something round beside him, connected to the bars overhead. A wheel. 

“It’s not a hover. It’s a car. A gasoline car.” 

“Seriously?” said Suga. “I thought real cars were supposed to be … I don’t know. Classy and Nice.” 

Indignation flared in Kageyama’s chest. “It has character,” he said, feeling for the tire’s treads. 

“So,” said Oikawa a second later, “does this mean we can’t use any of its parts?” 

Ignoring him, Kageyama hungrily scanned the blueprint before him. Oil pan, fuel injectors, exhaust pipes. “It’s from the second era.” 

“Fascinating.  _ Not _ ,” said Suga. He suddenly screeched, launching himself back from the car. 

Kageyama started so fast he whapped his head on the front of the suspension. “Suga, what?” 

“A rat just came out of the window! A big hairy fat one. Oh,  _ gross _ .” 

Groaning, Kageyama settled his head back into the dirt, massaging his forehead. That made two head injuries in one day. At that rate, he was going to have brain damage and have to buy a new control panel to remove the brain damage. “It must have been nesting in the upholstery. We probably scared it.” 

“ _ We  _ scared  _ it _ ?” Suga’s voice carried a shudder with it. “Can we go now, please? I want to go home to see my boyfriend.” 

Kageyama sighed. “Fine.” Dismissing the blueprint, he squirmed out from beneath the car, accepting Oikawa’s offered grippers to stand. “I thought all the surviving gasoline cars were in museums,” he said, brushing the cobwebs from his clothes. 

“I’m not sure that you can label that ‘a survivor,’” said Oikawa, his sensor darkening with disgust. “It looks more like a rotting pumpkin or the time when Tobio-chan decided to wear all orange that one day.” 

“That was a horrible day. I needed a lot of therapy from that experience.” Suga added on. 

“I didn’t look that bad.” Kageyama shut the hood with a bang, sending an impressive dust cloud over the android. “What was that about having a fantastic imagination? With some attention and a good cleaning, it could be restored to its former glory.” 

He caressed the hood. The car’s dome-shaped body was a yellow-orange shade that looked sickly under Oikawa’s light- a color that no one in modern times would choose- but with the antique style of the vehicle it bordered on charming. Rust was creeping up from the hollow beneath the shattered headlights, arching along the dented fender. One of the back windows was missing, but the seats were intact, albeit mildew covered and torn and probably home to more than just rodents. The steering wheel and dash seemed to have suffered only minor damage over the years. 

“Maybe it could be our escape car.” 

Suga peered into the passenger’s side window. “Escape from what?” 

“Aoi. New Karasuno. We could get out of the Commonwealth altogether. We could go to Europe!” Kageyama rounded the driver’s side and scrubbed the dirt from the window with his glove. On the floor inside, three pedals winked up at him. Though hovers were all controlled by computer, he had read enough about old technology to know what a clutch was and even had a basic idea of how to operate one. 

“This hunk of metal wouldn’t get us to the city limits,” said Suga. 

Stepping back, Kageyama dusted off his hands. They probably were right. Maybe this wasn’t a fantasy vehicle, maybe it wasn’t their key to salvation, but somehow, someday, he would leave New Karasuno. He would find a place where no one knew who he was- or what he was. 

“Plus we couldn’t afford the gasoline,” continued Oikawa. “We could trade in your new foot and still not be able to afford enough fuel to get out of here. Plus, the pollution fines. Plus, Suga wouldn't probably come since he has a boyfriend that probably doesn’t want to leave New Karasuno.” 

Suga shrugged. “I do want to come and I could ask my boyfriend to come with us as well. If we get the car so not fucking disgusting.”

Kageyama laughed. “We aren’t going to push the car home tonight, we will bring your boyfriend next time to help us. He should be strong right?” 

“He should be. He is a firefighter after all, I would be disappointed if he wasn’t.” Suga smiled. He turned around and flipped his hair as he brought out his portscreen from his pocket as he started to text his boyfriend. 

Kageyama’s eye caught on something- a dark spot below Suga’s collarbone, visible just above the collar of his t-shirt. “Hold still,” he said, reaching forward. 

Suga stood still like a statue as he asked through clenched teeth, “What? What is it? A bug? A spider?”

Kageyama moved closer to the still Suga and then swiped at the spot- and froze. 

He gasped and stumbled back, away from Suga. 

“What? What is it?” Suga asked as he swiveled around and started to tug on his shirt, trying to see, but then spotted another dot on the back of his hand. 

He looked up at Kageyama, blood draining from his face as he dropped his netscreen on the ground. “A… rash?” he said. “From the car?” 

Kageyama gulped and neared him with hesitant footsteps, holding his breath. He reached again for Suga’s collarbone and pulled the fabric of his shirt down, revealing the entire spot in the moonlight. A splotch of red, rimmed with bruise purple. 

His fingers trembled. He pulled away, meeting Suga’s gaze. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suga is probably not going to die, but I can't promise anything. Also Suga's boyfriend is Daichi.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when, I will update this again, but it will be soon. Maybe tuesday


End file.
